Secrets of Engagement
by Rhythmetic
Summary: Over four years after graduating from high school and leaving Rosewood behind, Aria Montgomery's suburban nightmare of secrets and lies has faded into a distant memory, but she misses the people she left behind with her secrets. And they miss her too. But he misses her the most… Ezria.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, beautiful people! This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction in… awhile (okay, so it's been like six years), but I love PLL and Ezria and I've been dying since the show wrapped, so I just had to write something. This story will probably be a two- or three-shot, since I haven't done this in a while. Please please please let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your likes, dislikes, advice, if you think it's worth continuing, etc. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Love, thanks, and much appreciation. ~R**

* * *

 _Boston, MA:_

Aria stifled a yawn as she hurriedly typed away on her laptop, lifting a hand away from her keyboard just long enough to drain the last few drops of depressingly lukewarm coffee from her thermos. She glanced at the time displayed on the lower right corner of the screen.

 _4:27 PM_.

She was cutting it close on this one – well, closer than she should be, at least. In Aria's defense, though, this predicament wasn't her fault. It was Friday, and that meant she had attended and taken the minutes for the weekly departmental meeting. And, just like every other Friday since she'd started at the firm three months ago, Jillian, her snappy giraffe of a boss, would be expecting the minutes report in her inbox before the end of business today. However, _unlike_ every other Friday, this week's departmental meeting had been postponed until the afternoon and had only concluded about a half hour ago, leaving Aria with just under an hour to turn her jumbled handwritten notes into a crisp, clean, and coherent document that would meet Jillian's unusually high standards.

Aria exhaled in frustration, turning to the last page in her notes and resuming with her work. She was close to having all of her notes typed up, but she still had to organize and proof her work – which was usually the lengthiest part of the process – with only thirty minutes to get it all done. Transferring the last few words from her notebook to the document on her computer, she hastily began rearranging and rewording bits and pieces, formatting and editing for grammar in between, as the minutes quickly ticked away.

As frustrating as her boss could be, Aria was thankful to have her as a mentor. She was ruthless, but she was also the best, and Aria took pride in the fact that she had managed to become Jillian's favorite assistant. Her boss had a reputation for being impossible to please, and Aria considered it a victory that she had seemingly made the impossible possible. However, Jillian's approval was just as difficult to keep as it was to earn, and, if Aria didn't submit her report on time, she would almost certainly never be able to earn her approval again.

Her fingers sped up at this thought. Jillian was Aria's ticket into the publishing world. She wanted to be an editor, and, if she stayed in Jillian's good graces, her dream was all but guaranteed to come true. She wouldn't – she couldn't – let that dream, quite literally, slip through her fingers. No, Aria had never disappointed Jillian before, and she'd be damned if she started today.

Her eyes darted again to the time on her screen.

 _4:48 PM_.

She was almost done. All that remained was proofing, but that, too, wasn't as simple as it might sound. Aria made a habit of proofing everything she sent her boss at least twice. She couldn't afford for any mistakes to cross paths with Jillian's discerning eye. For all her eccentricities, Jillian's editing philosophy was quite simple, and it revolved around what she called the 'editor's eye.' She believed the scrupulous eye required of any decent editor was an innate, unteachable quality, and, if Aria ever wished to become anything more than an assistant, she had to prove to Jillian that she possessed that inherent quality. That meant no mistakes; ever.

Scrolling to the top of her document, Aria began reading through it, meticulously going over every word, correcting any errors she'd previously missed as she did. And, once she reached the bottom of the last page, she scrolled to the top again to repeat the process, leaving no stone unturned.

Finding no mistakes the second time through, Aria wasted no time in pulling up the email template she used for sending her minutes reports to Jillian. Without sparing time to blink or breathe, Aria quickly attached the report, typed in Jillian's address, and pressed 'send.'

It was done.

Aria's eyes shifted to the side of her screen to check the time, unconsciously holding her breath, silently praying she hadn't just let her future slip through her fingers.

 _4:58 PM_.

She exhaled in relief. Never before had she been so happy that it wasn't yet the end of the work day.

Aria leaned back in her chair, giving her tired, aching fingers a rest as relief continued to wash over her. She stayed like this for a while, taking a moment to do something she rarely had the time to do while at work. She looked around her.

Aria's workspace was in a large room surrounded by other identical workspaces, mostly occupied by other assistants. The firm liked to call these work areas 'cubicles,' but Aria thought this was a rather generous term. In reality, they were glorified desks, with only flimsy semi-translucent dividers separating Aria's workspace from her neighbors'. She didn't mind the setup though. It made getting to know her colleagues easier, and, as a newcomer to the city with no friends or family in the area, she liked that.

Her 'desk buddies,' as they sometimes called themselves, had helped her tremendously when she was still learning the ropes at the firm. Overall, they were a great bunch, and Aria looked forward to seeing them in the office every day. In fact, she'd even taken to going out for after work drinks with several of her fellow twenty-something colleagues on occasion, which certainly helped ease the sting of loneliness she sometimes felt. Chatting and gossiping with her office friends helped her feel like she hadn't completely forsaken her personal life for her career, but there was still no denying that work was king in Aria Montgomery's life.

She hadn't planned for her career to take over her life; it had just sort of... happened.

When Aria left Rosewood for college in Savannah, she wanted a clean break from her old life and all the misery she'd endured at the hands of 'A,' in all its various forms. She loved her friends dearly – they were like sisters – but they all agreed they needed time apart. Each girl needed to embark upon her own path to recovery from the abuses they'd endured together, and part of that process for Aria was proving to herself that she could be whole and happy on her own. That's not to say she completely cut ties with her friends or her family – she didn't – but she refused to cling to them either. She needed to heal on her own, and she had. After four years away from Rosewood, Aria had systematically faced and conquered every demon 'A' had stirred up in her, and she felt stronger and more empowered than ever.

But Boston was different than Savannah. When Aria made the move back up north, she found her mind more preoccupied with her past than it had been in years. However, it wasn't 'A' that filled her mind now; it was the people she'd left behind. And, of all the people from Aria's past that occupied her mind, _he_ occupied it the most.

 _Ezra_.

She'd loved Ezra with all her heart – and he'd loved her with all of his – but theirs had been a complicated love. They'd lied to one another almost as much as they'd loved each other, and together they'd lied to the world even more. He broke more of her heart than she'd ever known existed, and yet, somehow, by the end of it all, he'd righted every wrong he'd ever done and earned her forgiveness. And, for a fleeting moment, they were happy again; but it couldn't last. He loved her too much to keep her as his own.

Their relationship had been a whirlwind – and there was no doubt in either one's mind that theirs had been the rarest and truest kind of love – but it had come at a cost. It was a cost Aria was happy to have paid, but it was one Ezra could never repay. Aria had forfeited the last years of her childhood to be with him. She'd passed on school dances with her friends, and so much more, for secret movie dates hidden away in Ezra's apartment. Of course, Aria didn't regret giving up those things to be with Ezra, but they both knew she needed time away from him, just as she'd needed time away from her friends, so that she could experience and truly savor every new and exciting adventure that college and early adulthood had in store for her.

So they'd broken up – it had been Ezra's idea, but it was Aria who made the final decision – and they hadn't spoken since Aria left for college.

Maybe it was the fact that she was geographically closer to him now, or maybe it was because she'd finally gotten exactly what Ezra had so desperately wanted her to have – a perfectly unencumbered college experience – but it seemed Aria was constantly having to force Ezra out of her mind. It happened most when she was alone and that all too familiar twinge of loneliness tugged at her heart, or when she'd pulled off some spectacular feat for Jillian. _Moments like this one_.

Aria looked around the desk-littered room; every chair was empty. All of her work friends had gone home for the weekend, and not a soul lingered to share in her tiny victory.

It was in moments just like this that Aria's mind wandered to Ezra and what he might say if he was there with her.

But he wasn't there, and he wouldn't be there any time soon.

Aria let out a tired sigh as she leaned forward in her chair, shaking her head at her own foolishness, and busied herself with gathering her belongings. Now wasn't the time to linger on the past; it never was. Her eyes caught the time on her laptop before she closed it and stuffed it into her already very heavy bag.

 _5:26 PM_.

The last thought on her tired mind as she parted ways with her desk, heading for the elevator, was of how much she was _not_ looking forward to her evening commute today, or her weekend. The subway would be packed, and so would her mind.

* * *

 _Rosewood, PA:_

Ezra had never thought of himself as having a particularly entrepreneurial spirit, but, after being in the coffeeshop and bookstore business for almost five years, he liked to think he'd become pretty good at juggling the demands that came with owning, operating, and managing his little shop. He absentmindedly brushed one hand through his hair as the other typed yet another series of numbers into the calculator that sat on the desk in his office. It was Friday, and that meant paychecks needed to go out.

In his early days as a business owner, this had been a rather daunting aspect of the job. For, as intelligent as Ezra Fitz was when it came to words and literature, he was no mathematician. It had taken some time, practice, and a few mistakes for him to get the hang of number crunching, but eventually it became second nature to him. The thought of Friday mornings no longer made him cringe or curse himself for buying The Brew now that his fingers had learned to dance between the digits on his calculator with ease and precision.

Done with the numbers part of the equation, Ezra swiveled his chair around as he rolled over to the filing cabinet behind him where he kept the checks. Swiftly unlocking and opening the drawer he opened every Friday morning, he grabbed the checkbook and rolled back over to his desk to fill them out.

He'd just finished filling out the last check when he heard a light knock on the doorframe behind him. Ezra turned around at the sound.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting you," Jess, one of his longtime employees, said apologetically.

"No, not at all," Ezra replied easily, waving a casual hand in her direction. "What's up?"

"I hate to do this to you, but my son's daycare just called to tell me he's sick. I'd normally ask someone else to pick him up, but I can't get ahold of anyone. Would it be okay if—" Ezra cut her off, anticipating the trajectory of her question.

"Go," he told her. "Take your son home. I'll cover the rest of your shift."

"Are you sure, Ezra?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes," he assured her, "but before you head out," Ezra rifled through the pile of checks on his desk, picking up one and handing it to Jess with a smile, "don't forget this."

"Thank you," she replied as she took the check from Ezra's hand, "really."

"Have a good weekend, Jess," he offered kindly. "I hope Kyle feels better soon."

Only Jess and Sabrina had been scheduled to work this morning, and, with Sabrina in the kitchen, that left Ezra at the counter. Ezra didn't mind it at all though. His social life was essentially non-existent, so he looked forward to the opportunity to chat with customers, although those seemed to be in short supply now that the morning rush had dwindled. He checked his watch out of habit.

 _9:42 AM_.

Ezra counted himself lucky that his little coffeeshop-bookstore had a loyal patronage. That being said, during the work week, the bulk of its business was done in the early morning and evening, and, between the start of the business day and when school let out, The Brew rarely saw more than a few customers per hour. So Ezra was unsurprised that, in the half hour or so that he'd been out front, he'd only taken one order.

After another few minutes with no new activity, Ezra decided to take a seat in a nearby armchair. It was his favorite one. Not only was it the most comfortable seating option in the small shop; it was also handpicked and placed by _her_.

 _Aria_.

Ezra knew he should've tossed the chair long ago – he was only torturing himself by keeping a constant reminder of Aria so close to him – but he couldn't help himself. In the month between Ezra's purchase of The Brew and their breakup, Aria had sat in that chair every day. She'd placed it by the counter so that, when Ezra had to man the register, they could still steal glances at each other, and every day after school for that one glorious month, she'd sit in that chair and do her homework or read or write, only parting from her work to watch him as he did his.

Yes, keeping the chair had been a bad idea, but Ezra didn't really care. He'd resigned himself to the fact that there was no one better than Aria – not for him or anyone else – long ago, and that was a fact he'd struggled with tremendously following their breakup. Because Ezra didn't want to 'move on,' as people so often encouraged him to do. He didn't want to forget her or fall in love with someone new, and he most certainly wasn't going to fall _out_ of love with her.

This, however, didn't mean Ezra hadn't dated women in the past four years – he had – but none of his attempts had ended well because he honestly didn't give a damn if the women he dated knew he was in love with Aria. He'd learned time and time again, attempt after half-hearted attempt, that women don't particularly like dating men who have pictures of other women in their apartments, but he, quite frankly, couldn't care less.

Consequently, Ezra hadn't been on a real date in over a year, but then again, he simply didn't care.

Aria was the queen of his heart, and, when he'd said goodbye to her four years ago, she'd taken the most important part of him with her. It hadn't been a surprise – he knew exactly how her absence would affect him when he suggested she consider breaking up – but he'd done it anyway for one very simple reason. Aria's happiness was more important to Ezra than his own.

When he read the college letter Aria had sent to Jackie in an attempt to sway the Talmadge admissions board in her favor, he realized that they had to break up. Aria needed to go forward on her own, without him or anyone else holding her back, so that she could break free of Rosewood and experience every wonderful and terrible aspect of becoming an adult for herself. The realization that Aria wouldn't be in his life had been devastating, but, at the same time, Ezra knew he could never live with himself if he became the reason for Aria's unhappiness; not after everything he'd already put her through. His only option was to set her free. So he did – and he suffered for it – but he could handle the pain so long as Aria was happy.

So Ezra now found himself leading a strange, numb life. He didn't wallow in pain or self-pity, but, if ever he let his mind wander too far, he found a dull ache would quickly settle in the half of a heart he still had. He let himself keep his mementos and reminders of the woman who, quite literally, stole his heart, but he kept moving too, never letting himself dwell on the past for too long at a time.

Something had changed in the past few months though; something that made it difficult for Ezra to distract himself from the hold Aria had on his mind. It had started in May when he'd realized that Aria would be graduating from college soon, and ever since then questions about where she was and what she was doing had been nagging at him. Because, until then, even though he hadn't known any specifics about her life, he'd always known where she was and could imagine what she was doing; she'd been in Savannah working on her degree. But, now, all he knew was that she _wasn't_ in Savannah, and she _wasn't_ in college. And any time his mind started to wander off, guessing at where she might be or what she might be doing, he always came back to the same question: _'Did she find what she was looking for?'_

It was the question that haunted him and kept him up at night, but every time it did he gave himself the same response: _'You might never know.'_ And he had to be okay with that.

The sound of ringing drew Ezra from his thoughts. It came from the bell above the front door, indicating a likely customer; a welcomed distraction. Ezra jumped up from his seat to greet whoever had just walked in, eager to lead his mind away from Aria, but, as he caught sight of the new patron, his hopes were dashed; it was Byron Montgomery.

Ezra didn't see Byron very often – it had been at least six months since the last time – but, when he did, they were always friendly. The bitterness and resentment that Byron had once held for Ezra had long since faded away, and, in its absence, the two had found perfectly suitable acquaintances in each other. There was, however, always a metaphoric elephant in the room when their paths crossed: Aria. It seemed the two had an unspoken agreement that they would never speak about their mutual relation to one another. Ezra suspected Byron avoided Aria as a topic of conversation not out of any ill will toward him but, instead, because Byron knew his daughter's former boyfriend had never been the same after their breakup and didn't want to rub salt the wound, so to speak. Ezra didn't mind Byron's avoidance though; he figured it was probably for the best.

"Good morning, Byron," Ezra greeted kindly as he stepped behind the counter.

"Morning, Ezra," Byron returned with a smile. "How are you?"

"Same as always," Ezra replied simply. "And you?"

"To be honest," Byron sighed as he approached the counter, "I could be better."

"Is everything okay?" Ezra asked, sincerely but not overly concerned.

"Yeah, I've just," Byron paused, letting out a tired sigh, "I've got a lot on my mind." He paused again, rubbing his fingers over his forehead in thought, "Well, it's actually just one thing that's been on my mind a lot. I can't seem to shake it though." He shook his head at himself before looking toward Ezra, "Does that ever happen to you?"

Ezra couldn't help the laugh that slipped from his mouth as the irony of Byron's question all but smacked him in the face. "All the time," he replied, shaking his head, his lips settling into a sad smile. He knew the frustration Byron felt not just because it was evident on his face, but because he'd been stuck in the very same quandary for over four years. Ezra only wished he had some advice to give him, but he didn't. "Let me get you something to drink," he offered, instead. "Maybe some caffeine will help you sort it out." It was the best he could seem to come up with at the moment.

"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to sit down for a bit," Byron replied, quickly adding, "if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Ezra assured him. "Make yourself at home."

Ezra watched as Byron sat himself at a table, clearly deep in thought and at odds with himself. He knew he probably should've let Byron be, but he couldn't help but feel concern for the father of the woman he loved. So he poured a cup of coffee and headed in Byron's direction, lifting a book from a shelf on the way.

"I know you said you'd pass, but," Ezra began as he gingerly set the cup of coffee in front of Byron, "I thought you might change your mind. _And_ ," he continued, placing the book on the table beside the coffee, "I think you'll find this book an effective distractor."

"Thank you, Ezra," Byron said, looking up at him. "I appreciate it, really," he hesitated before going on, "but, if I'm being honest, I didn't come here for books or coffee." Byron gestured to the seat across from him, indicating that Ezra should sit down.

"Would you mind if I asked why you _did_ come here?" Ezra inquired across from him.

Byron appeared to ponder his response, uncertain about how exactly he should proceed. Several silent moments passed before he gave a defeated sigh, signaling he'd made up his mind. Reaching into his pants pocket, Byron retrieved his wallet and pulled a card out of it, which he then slowly slid across the table toward Ezra.

As he took the card, Ezra recognized it was a business card, and typed across the top of it were his two favorite words: 'Aria Montgomery.'

"She's in Boston," Byron supplied to an utterly dumbstruck Ezra. "She works at a publishing firm there."

Ezra was in awe. Printed on the card clutched in his hands was more information about Aria's life than he'd known in years, and, of all people, her father, who had threatened to have him arrested on more than one occasion, had given it to him. "Why are you giving this to me?" he asked slowly, unable to form any other words in his shocked state.

"I just thought you should know," was Byron's simple and honest reply.

"But, _why_?" Ezra asked again, still wildly confused.

Byron took a deep breath before responding. "I think she'd like to see you, Ezra."

Ezra felt his heart beat faster at the words, but he knew better than to believe them without question. "What makes you think that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Last time she was home, you came up, and she had the same look in her eyes that you have right now," Byron responded candidly, "hope."

Silence fell between the two. Ezra didn't know what to say, and Byron had said everything he had to say. They'd laid everything, quite literally, out on the table. Everything that needed to be said had been said, and they both knew it. So, with nothing left to do or say, Byron gathered his wallet and coffee cup, and got up to leave.

"Thanks again for the coffee," he offered as he started for the door, but he didn't get very far.

"Wait," Ezra quickly stood, placing himself between Byron and the door. He had just one more question, "Is she happy?" After all, Aria's happiness is all that had ever mattered to him. That was what it had all been for.

Byron paused to consider Ezra's question. He'd never thought Aria was particularly _un_ happy, but was she happy? _Really happy?_ He realized, then, that he didn't know the answer to that question.

Somewhat uncertainly, he placed a hand on Ezra's shoulder, just as he did with Mike when he needed his son to really hear what he had to say. "I think she could be happier."

It was a simple statement said in a simple way, but it told Ezra everything he needed to know. Aria had gained and grown all she could from their separation, and it was time for their time apart to end. Ezra didn't expect their relationship to pick up where they'd left it so many years ago. He didn't expect that Aria had missed him in the same way or as much as he'd missed her, and he certainly didn't expect that she was just sitting at her desk in Boston waiting for him. But he knew that, at some level, she missed him too, and that was all he needed to know.

Ezra gave a nod in response, a gesture of reassurance that his message had been received, and Byron walked out of the shop without a word, back in the direction from which he came.

Ezra turned the business card over in his hand a few times, memorizing every detail emblazoned upon it. He might not know where she lived, but he knew where she worked, and that was enough. He carefully tucked the card into his wallet, heading toward the kitchen to ask his most trusted employee for a _very_ big favor. As he walked, he checked the time on his wrist.

 _10:56 AM_.

He could make it to Boston in time.

* * *

 **Endnote:**

 **THANK YOU to _ShanaLy_ for taking pity on my computer illiterate soul and telling me how to insert lines to separate the text!**

 **Please please _please_ leave a review! I'd love to know whatcha think of this chapter:) Thanks for reading, and stop by soon for updates!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, beautiful people! Thank you _sooo_ much for your favorites, follows, and reviews on this little story! Reviews, especially, warm my heart and truly inspire me to keep going. Knowing that you enjoy reading this makes me _so_ happy, and seeing that you like what I'm doing in the form of a review makes me want to write even more:) So please keep the reviews coming! ****Special thanks to _ShanaLy_ and _obsessedwithezria_ for your reviews on chapter one…**

 ** _ShanaLy_ : Thank you for the technical advice. You're a life saver! Sometimes I worry that my writing style can be get too detailed, so I'm SO glad you liked all the details:)**

 ** _obsessedwithezria_ : Your review is honestly what inspired me to write this chapter. As soon as I read it I was like, 'I have to keep writing this story for obsessedwithezria!' Seeing how excited you were about it made me even more excited about writing it!**

 ** _Now, about this chapter_ … It picks up where the last chapter left off with Aria, so she's leaving work. I know last time I said this would probably be a two- or three-shot, but now I'm thinking it'll be 4-5 chapters. I keep getting all these new, juicy ideas;) Also, i** **t's been raining for literally 48 hrs straight where I am, and I think you'll see it inspired this chapter.**

 **Anyway, my apologies for the long A/N. Without further ado, here's chapter two; I hope you enjoy it! Love, thanks, and much appreciation. ~R**

* * *

 _Boston, MA:_

Aria let out a huff from inside the elevator as she gave the 'Lobby' button a second, perhaps too forceful, punch. It had a nasty tendency of sticking; something that, on any other day, wouldn't have bothered her at all, but today it was getting on her last nerve. She was tired, and she didn't have time for sticky elevator buttons. She just wanted to get home to her tiny shoebox of an apartment so that she could kick off her uncomfortably high heels and relax.

A satisfied smile found its way onto Aria's face as the stubborn button lit up after the second punch and the elevator began its descent to the ground. Admittedly, her week had ended badly, but she decided to take it as a good omen that it had only taken her two tries – instead of the usual minimum of three – to get the elevator moving. _And_ , because of her late departure from the office, she had even managed to dodge the normal Friday evening rush that so often left her sandwiched between strangers on the uncooperative elevator.

Maybe this weekend wouldn't be all that bad after all.

By the time the elevator reached its destination, its doors opening to reveal the lobby of the office building, Aria was feeling cautiously optimistic about the coming days. She didn't know why exactly, but she just had a feeling that this weekend wouldn't be as dismal or lonely as those before it. She had a feeling it would be better – much better – as if her heart was telling her mind to gear up for something wonderful.

But the smile disappeared from her face almost as quickly as it had appeared, the swell of hope in her heart swiftly dissipating, when she exited the elevator and caught sight of the large glass doors at the front of the lobby. Through them she could see a torrential downpour assaulting the pavement outside. Pedestrians scurried along the sidewalk, attempting yet failing to escape the deluge from under their umbrellas, while cars crept in and out of view, wipers flinging virtual buckets of water aside as they did.

Aria reached into her bag, quickly sifting through its contents as she clung to the last shred of optimism she possessed. But it was useless; she'd forgotten her umbrella.

She knew there were always vendors selling umbrellas at the subway station, but that was a ten minute walk away. She'd be drenched by then, and, to top it all off, her feet would be blistered from walking that long in the rain. Aria silently cursed herself as she looked down at her strappy heels. They were beautiful, but they weren't exactly ideal for walking, especially not in these conditions.

Slinging her bag back onto her shoulder, Aria's eyes darted back to the lobby doors, her brow furrowing as she contemplated her damp and dreary fate. The rain hadn't let up a bit; people were still scurrying, and cars were still creeping.

She wanted nothing more in that moment than to be home, but it seemed fate was throwing her a _very_ unwelcome curveball.

So, shoulders sinking in defeat, Aria sauntered lazily over to a nearby bench several yards across from the building's entrance, plopping down on it unceremoniously. Outside, the storm was still raging, and, unfortunately for Aria, she'd have to wait it out.

She pulled her phone out from her bag, noting the time as she searched in vain for a distraction to make her wait pass by faster.

 _5:39 PM._

Aria only hoped the rain would clear up quickly. She didn't want to find out where her mind would wander without the distraction of her commute.

* * *

 _Newton, MA:_

Ezra had underestimated how long the drive from Rosewood to Boston was. In his head, Boston had always seemed pretty close to New York, and, considering that he'd made the two-hour drive from Rosewood to New York on more than a few occasions, he'd assumed the drive to Boston wouldn't be that much longer.

He'd been wrong.

After he'd managed to bribe Sabrina into covering her shift at The Brew alone and thrown a change of clothes into his car – he knew he wouldn't be making the drive back to Rosewood tonight – his eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he plugged his destination into the GPS affixed to his windshield. Boston wasn't just 'down the road a ways,' as he'd always assumed; it was almost six hours down the road. This gave Ezra just enough time to get to Aria's office by the end of business, but he'd be cutting it close. And, with it being the end of the week, if Aria decided to leave work early, he might miss her completely.

Now, at this point, a smarter man might have decided to put off his impromptu Friday road trip until Monday, but the idea of postponing his reunion with Aria never crossed Ezra's mind. His solution, instead, was to put pedal to metal, breaking every speed limit between Pennsylvania and Massachusetts on his way. And, however ill-planned it was, his strategy of playing 'beat the clock' had unwittingly served him well so far. Five and a half hours after his departure from Rosewood, Ezra found himself pulling out of a gas station in Newton, a Boston suburb. His eyes met the time display on the dash as he took the exit back onto the turnpike.

 _4:53 PM._

He was making good time – better than he ever could've expected – but it wasn't good enough. He still had another half hour to go, and that wasn't even accounting for traffic or parking. He couldn't stop the question that entered his mind as he mentally calculated his arrival at Aria's office; _'What if I'm too late?'_

Ezra shook his head – and the question from his mind – immediately. His hands involuntarily gripped the steering wheel tighter, his foot falling harder on the gas pedal as his eyes turned back toward the road. He wouldn't let himself ask the questions tickling at the tip of his tongue. He wouldn't let his mind wander to 'what ifs'; that wasn't an option. He had to believe Aria would be there – that some wonderful twist of fate would prevent her from leaving her office before he could get there.

He let this tiny glimmer of hope settle in his mind as he reached to turn on his wipers, highway signs and exits passing him all the while.

He'd first noticed rain clouds in the distance around the Connecticut-Massachusetts state line, and it seemed he'd now reached those clouds as the first few drops hit his windshield.

Ezra had always been quite fond of rain; he took it as a respite from the chaos of life. It had a calming and creative affect on him, as evidenced by the fact that he often experienced his most inspired moments as a writer when the soft pitter-patter of water on his windows played like a symphony all around him. And driving in the rain tended to affect him similarly. Ezra had experienced some of his greatest moments of mental clarity while driving in the rain.

This, however, _wasn't_ one of those moments.

It seemed, as if in a single instant, the first few drops of water that hit his windshield had transformed into an absolute torrent. Ezra soon found himself hunched forward, nearly hugging his steering wheel to his chest, eyes squinted in a strained attempt to make out the lines and cars in front of him. Glancing to his left, he could just barely make out the traffic heading in the opposite direction. In fact, if it hadn't been at a stand-still, he probably wouldn't have been able to make it out at all.

Ezra's heartbeat quickened as he continued passing the opposite-facing cars which, even through the flood around him, was so clearly bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. Even before his eyes tore from the road in front of him to look at his GPS, he knew he was approaching Boston; the outbound pileup of traffic was all the proof he needed.

Just a few short minutes later, he'd turned off the highway and onto the streets of Boston, water still beating down unrelentingly all around him. He made turn after turn, his eyes dancing between his windshield and the navigational device adhered to it, as he slowly made his way through the maze of traffic in the city. On the sidewalks, people ran to escape the downpour and reach their destinations as quickly as they could, their umbrellas having long since lost their utility. Meanwhile, the cars on the street, his included, lurched along; he _almost_ envied the pedestrians around him because at least they were moving. _Almost._

After much frustration on his part, the light ahead of Ezra flipped from red to green, and he was able to turn onto a side street. It was somewhat quieter than the previous street, and, had the sky not been falling down around him, it probably would've seemed quite quaint. However, his mind didn't linger on this thought for long. Instead, his eyes glued to the buildings around him because this street was the one listed on Aria's business card.

Ezra slowed down, his heart positively pounding in his chest as he read the building numbers to his right, the side he determined his destination would be on. And then he saw it; the number that'd been swirling around his head for the last six hours.

He was here.

He came to a stop just before the large glass doors that led into the building, his eyes fixing upon them. The air around him was loud – his wipers were beating at full force as they tried but failed to combat the watery assault falling down upon them – but his mind was completely silent. For a moment, Ezra stared at the doors, as if attempting to read them, but the flood forcing its way down onto the city streets prevented him from seeing anything behind them.

A shaky breath fell from his lips as his eyes broke away from the doors to the clock on his dash.

 _5:40 PM._

The rain had slowed him down more than he'd thought it would.

Suddenly, Ezra forgot about parking; he didn't care if he got a ticket. And he forgot about his keys – and his umbrella too – as he opened his door, stopping only to turn on his hazard lights before he stepped into the rain and walked toward the glass doors just several yards away. He didn't care if someone took his car or that he was now drenched from head to toe. All that mattered to Ezra was getting inside that building. Any consequence would be worth it if it meant he could see her; _Aria_.

So, as his hand reached for the handle that held his fate, only one blissfully hopeful thought coursed through Ezra's mind.

 _If the rain had slowed him down, maybe it had slowed her down too_.

* * *

Aria had just begun scrolling through a board on her long-forgotten Pinterest app when the sound of movement – more specifically the movement of a heavy door – registered in a distant part of her mind. She paid it no mind though, opting instead to continue scrolling, her eyes never parting from the device in her hand. She steadily tapped at her phone, absentmindedly pinning and liking images she'd probably never look at again just to pass the time until the rain let up.

But then, several moments later, another sound registered with a more present part of Aria's mind – squeaking – like that of wet rubber on tiles. Normally, she would've ignored this sound, just as she had the previous one, but something about the squeaking stood out to her; it was growing louder, as if it was approaching her. Her finger stilled over the screen of her phone as she listened intently, eyes still glued to it. Sure enough, the squeaking was getting louder still.

And then it stopped.

At the abrupt silence, Aria's eyes fell from the screen in her hand to the tiled floor in front of her. Several steps away from her were two very wet feet. Her eyes went wide at the sight of them, her lungs acting of their own volition as they stole a sharp breath.

She didn't know how she knew it was him; she just did.

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be here," he spoke softly, his voice filling Aria's ears and awakening a warmth in her chest that seemed to glow. Slowly, her eyes trailed from his feet, to his legs, up his torso, and above his shoulders until she met his beautiful, wet, smiling face for the first time in over four years.

There he was; _Ezra_.

Her phone slipped from her fingers onto the bench beside her as she met and matched his smile, her mouth hanging open in shock. She was speechless. She had absolutely no idea what to say to him, so she went with what she saw. "You're so wet," Aria remarked somewhat dumbly, the expression of gleeful surprise still stamped on her face.

Ezra let out a laugh at her words. Of all the first words he'd imagined Aria would have for him after all this time, those had never crossed his mind. "I am," he replied, stepping toward her to gently take one of her hands in his own, his voice dropping to a whisper, "it's kind of raining outside." The sweet, dazed smile that swept across her face at his response was enough to warm his heart.

As if to emphasize Ezra's point, just then, a crack of thunder swept through the air. The reverberating sound jolted them both and effectively shook Aria from her previous state of shock. Her eyes skipped across the room – from the heavy glass doors and the storm raging behind them, to the completely drenched man standing in front of her – as if the situation before her was only just now registering in her brain.

Suddenly, Aria was on her feet, her petite hands grasping at each of Ezra's arms just above the elbow. "Ezra," she breathed his name as she searched his beautiful blue eyes, just as confused at the sight of him as she was happy, "how did you know?" When her question received only a confused raised brow in response, Aria elaborated. "How did you know I needed you?"

Ezra's lips curved into a soft, warm smile – the adoring smile reserved for Aria alone – as his fingers lifted up to brush a bit of hair behind her ear. The truth was he hadn't known she'd needed him, but he'd certainly needed her; after all, that's what had led him to Boston and back to her. So he answered her honestly, his eyes never straying from hers. "Because I needed you too."

Aria felt the glowing warmth in her chest begin to pulse at Ezra's response. A quiet, disbelieving laugh shook her chest as she continued searching his face, still not completely convinced that he wasn't, in fact, a figment of her imagination. This couldn't be real. Ezra couldn't be there, standing right in front of her. _But he was._

So many times over the past few months – and years – she'd wished he would somehow pop up, as if from dust, just like this. But never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he actually _would_ ; and certainly not at the moment she needed him most. No, this _had_ to be a dream.

She let her eyes trace over every inch of his face in awe. His nose, his lips, his eyes; they were all the same, like a carbon copy from her memory. His hair though; it was a bit longer, like it'd been when they'd met so many years ago. And it was wet – very wet – from the rain.

Aria had always loved what happened to Ezra's hair when it got wet. Few people knew that he had naturally wavy, almost curly, hair. He normally kept it too short for his curls to be noticeable, but whenever it was wet, even at its shortest, Ezra's hair always formed into soft, loose curls; and Aria loved it. In fact, she loved it so much that she'd never seemed to be able to keep her hands out of it. When they'd been together, she'd spent many lazy Sunday afternoons on his old leather couch, her fingers twirling and fiddling with his curly wet post-shower hair, only stopping to dodge Ezra's hand whenever he'd playfully try to bat her fingers away. The memory lifted the corners of her mouth into a broad smile as her eyes continued to wash over his features.

She had never been able to pinpoint exactly why, but Ezra was always most beautiful to her when his hair was an unruly, messy mop of curls. Maybe it was because it was a side of him only she got to see; a side that only saw the light of day when they were alone together, hidden away from the world and its prying, judgmental eyes. Or maybe it was simply because curly was his natural, unadulterated state. Ezra had never needed to dress up or calm down his mess of hair to be beautiful to Aria; she'd loved the _man_ , not the image.

Absentmindedly, her thoughts too far away to consider her own actions, Aria lifted her hand to Ezra's head, submerging her fingers in the wet mess of curls she hadn't known she'd been missing. The sensation shocked her, surprise infiltrating her expression. She didn't know what she'd been expecting; perhaps, she hadn't been expecting anything since her hands seemed to have acted of their own accord, without any interference from her brain. But, if she'd been expecting anything, it certainly wasn't this. Ezra's hair wasn't just wet – it was _cold_ – too cold to be a figment of her imagination.

And, in an instant, Aria knew _this wasn't a dream_.

As reality came flooding back to her – the storm seeming to rage harder, her breathing suddenly ringing in her ears more loudly than ever – Aria's hand fell from Ezra's hair to his shoulder. Somehow, it was even wetter and colder.

She had noticed that he'd gotten wet from the storm; of course she had. But, for some reason, touching him and feeling just how wet he was – feeling how _cold_ he was – made the situation that much more real. Aria's shock turned to concern as her eyes met his once again, her mind now fully present. "You're so wet," she said lowly, almost whispering.

Just as he had several minutes earlier, Ezra let out an amused laugh at her concerned statement. "You said that already," he smirked down at her, amazed that she could still be so short in such high heels.

"I know, but it's just—" Aria paused mid-sentence, her mouth ajar as she searched his face and her mind in a desperate attempt to turn her racing thoughts into words, but nothing new came to her. " _You're so wet_ ," she settled for her old standby, emphasizing the phrase with the futile hope that Ezra would somehow be able to pluck her thoughts from her pleading words, "and _cold_."

But Ezra simply chuckled in response, gently removing her wrist from his shoulder to take it in his hand. "I don't feel very cold," he returned, the corner of his mouth still raised in a playful smirk.

"Ezra, this isn't funny," Aria huffed in a way that was, quite ironically, _very_ funny to Ezra. "We need to get you into something dry."

It had been a very long time since Aria had referred to them as a 'we,' and hearing her use the word to describe the two of them now was all it took for Ezra to drop his jesting demeanor, his smirk subduing into a crooked grin. "I have a change of clothes in the car," he offered, his hand blindly gesturing in the general direction of the lobby doors. Ezra watched as Aria's gaze diverted from his to the large glass doors behind him, through which he knew his car would be clearly visible to her. But it was only when a look of surprise graced her face that he remembered the state in which he had left the car. He turned his head toward it. There it sat, illegally parked on the side of a city street, engine still running, wipers still wiping at full force, the hazard lights blinking ceaselessly. Ezra's hand grazed the back of his neck as he turned back to Aria. "Speaking of the car—" he began, but Aria cut him off, reading his mind.

"If we don't hurry, someone's going to take off with our ride," she interjected, a smirk forming on _her_ lips this time, " _and_ your clothes."

Ezra didn't get the chance to think about how wonderful Aria's voice sounded when she used words like 'we' and 'our' to describe them, and he didn't get the chance to marvel at how stunning the smirk on her lips was as she said those words either. He didn't even have time to ask her if she wanted a ride in the first place. Because, before he could comprehend what was happening, she'd reached down to unfasten her strapped leather heels, thrown them and her bag into his arms, and scurried off into the storm.

No, Ezra didn't have time to think at all. Because, before he knew it, he was left alone in the lobby, arms filled to the brim, watching a beautiful, barefooted, and unencumbered Aria scamper to the safety of his car. And he hadn't been happier in years.

 _She was magic._

Ezra shook his head in amusement and love for this crazy woman who had stolen his heart so long ago and, turning around, collected her phone, which still sat on the bench, forgotten in the excitement of the past few minutes. As he went to toss it in her bag, he caught the time displayed on it.

 _5:50 PM._

He couldn't believe it hadn't even been ten minutes since he'd walked through those doors and back into Aria's life. But, then again, being with Aria tended to have that affect on him; time seemed to stand still in the most glorious way when he was in her presence. And, looking out through the glass doors ahead of him, watching her fumble with the handle of the passenger-side door as she hastily ripped it open and disappeared behind it – now just as wet and cold as he was – Ezra felt for the first time in over four years that he could see a light at the end of his very long, very dark tunnel. And her name was Aria.

He didn't know what to expect or where this impromptu journey would lead; he certainly wasn't expecting that Aria would jump back into his arms. But he knew, so long as she was leading the way, it would be _great_.

So Ezra followed Aria's lead. _He ran_.

And he didn't look back.

* * *

 **Endnote:**

 **So what'd you think?**

 **I know this story is moving slowly, but that's because I really want to capture and develop Aria and Ezra's emotions. Trust me, I get how frustrating slow progressing stories can be, but I promise I have a really nice plan for our lovebirds that I think you'll be _very_ pleased with:)**

 **Btw I'm a southern gal who's never driven from PA to MA, so please forgive me if I totally butchered Ezra's trip to Boston. I had to research the whole thing using Rosemont, PA (which Rosewood is based on) as a point of reference...** **Also, you might be thinking it's a bit strange that the rain made Ezra so cold when this is set in August, but when I visited Boston several years ago in August it was actually pretty chilly. It was only in the upper 60s, but I think we can all agree that's pretty cold in the rain;)**

 **Please please _please_ leave a review in the lovely little box below. I LOVE hearing your thoughts, and I meant what I said in the A/N; reviews truly do inspire me to keep writing!**

 **Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and check back soon for updates!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, beautiful people! I'm sorry it's taken a while to finish this, but I had more trouble writing it than the previous chapters. Writing dialogue scenes frustrates me because I want to fully describe the scene and accurately portray characters' emotions, but if I go into too much detail it'll ruin the flow of the dialogue. It's a balance I'm still trying to get the hang of, so _please_ let me know how you feel about how this dialogue is written! I would love and appreciate you forever;)**

 **Thank you _so much_ for your reviews! You seriously blow my mind; last chapter got SIX! You've all been so sweet and kind, and you have no idea how much it means to me. I wish you could see the stupid little dance I do whenever I read your messages. It's super embarrassing;)**

 **This chapter picks up where the last one left off, so I _really_ suggest you reread at least the last part of chapter two before this one. Hope you enjoy it! Love, thanks, and much appreciation. ~R**

* * *

Ezra quickly slammed the door shut behind him as he all but fell into the driver's seat, somewhat breathless from his watery sprint to the car; _and_ from Aria's presence. As he turned to set the heavy bag Aria had thrown at him before she'd run into the rain just a minute earlier on the backseat, he let out a bemused chuckle. A wet and shivering Aria sat in the passenger seat, her perfectly painted bare toes resting on the dash as she fiddled with the dials on the console in an attempt to heat up the car. The sight was priceless.

"What?" she asked at the sound of his laughter, leaning back into her seat as warm air finally came blasting through the vents. "I'm cold! If you haven't noticed, I'm drenched," she defended herself as she gestured to her rain-soaked ensemble, unable to hold in a laugh of her own as she met his smiling face.

"Yeah," Ezra rolled his eyes at her silliness, "I may have noticed." For, however wet and cold Aria was, Ezra was at least twice as wet and cold, and they both knew the other was aware of this fact.

As warm air continued to fill the car, so did silence. Ezra didn't know what exactly he should do next. He had originally planned on asking Aria if she wanted to catch up over a drink – coffee maybe – he knew how much she loved caffeine. But now, as they sat there, both soaked and chilled to the bone, he realized neither of them was in any condition to enter a coffeeshop. He knew they would have to go to her apartment, wherever that was, so that they could both change clothes, but, at the same time, he didn't want to invite himself over so soon after their reunion when they hadn't so much as spoken in four years.

Ezra had just begun mulling over the somewhat farfetched idea of stopping to change at a gas station when Aria interrupted the silence. "You can change at my place," she spoke, seemingly reading his mind. Her now sufficiently thawed feet dropped from the dash as she shifted her eyes to the time displayed between them.

 _5:57 PM._

"It's past the worst of traffic," she continued, her eyes moving to meet Ezra's. "And I know a shortcut that bypasses the main roads, so it shouldn't take us too long."

"Okay," Ezra gave a relieved nod of affirmation to her invite, "lead the way." He chuckled internally at his words as he shifted the car into 'drive,' following along as Aria pointed out directions to him. _If only she knew that he'd follow her anywhere_.

* * *

The ride to Aria's apartment, although relatively uncongested, was still rather slow. Water continued to assault the windows all around them as Ezra once again found himself leaning forward uncomfortably, his fingers wound tightly around the steering wheel. He squinted in order to make out the road before them while Aria sat beside him in silence, only speaking up to point out the various turns on their route. The silence was calm and comfortable though. It was nice and – although neither would likely admit it – completely necessary. Ezra didn't want their first real conversation in years to happen while he was distracted with trying to safely transport them through a storm, and Aria needed a bit of silence to process their situation so that she could figure out how she felt about it. After all, _she_ hadn't had the benefit of a six hour drive to contemplate their impending reunion.

"Take a left at this light," Aria directed, still deep in thought.

As Ezra quickly complied with her direction, Aria turned to look out her window, her mind racing with thoughts and questions. She was so thrilled yet so overwhelmed all at once. It almost didn't seem real that Ezra was sitting just two feet away from her. _But_ , she realized as her eyes tore from the window and landed on his hunched and squinting form, _this was entirely real_. It wasn't just wishful thinking, and it wasn't just a magnificent dream; it was reality. It was _her_ – _their_ – reality, and this thought alone lit a warmth within Aria that spread across her skin and through her extremities, easily replacing any chill that might have lingered in her bones. But, for as thrilled as Aria was, she was just as confused.

She found it quite ironic that today, of all days, was the day the sky had decided to collapse on Boston; because the torrential downpour outside perfectly mirrored the flood inside her head. She watched in fascination as water tore from the clouds, engulfing the city in a seemingly infinite aqueous curtain. And, all the while, the only lucid thought she could muster was that _this_ – the airborne monsoon before her – must be a tangible projection of her brain upon the city. Countless thoughts and questions about Ezra's unexpected reentrance into her life inundated her mind, all pooling and swirling together into one big indiscernible blob of confusion, just as the raindrops falling through the air – once entirely separate from one another – now converged into a single indecipherable river on the pavement. It was all a blur. And, despite her greatest efforts, she couldn't tell any one thought or question apart from the others, much like she couldn't make out the individual water molecules among the drenched streets.

A small, curious smile slipped through her confusion and onto her lips. It would be ridiculous by anyone's standards to try to distinguish one drop of water from another in a river. In fact, the idea was beyond ridiculous. It was preposterous; _impossible_. When you look at a river, you don't focus on the complexity of its parts; you focus on the river as a whole. And once you leave that river, all that matters is how it made you feel.

Aria's eyes lifted from the slick sidewalks to the sky. If clouds could be described in terms of human emotions, these would be sad, angry; nothing but doom and gloom. They were dark and foreboding. But that's not how Aria felt.

It was true; the downpour mirrored her own confusion in many ways. It was loud and turbulent – a near perfect comparison – but there was one very important difference between the chaos of her mind and the chaos of the storm raging all around her. They _felt_ different.

The chaos bouncing around in Aria's skull, however confusing and indecipherable it was, felt _good_. It was exciting and wonderful and warm; it was bright and golden like the sun. And, suddenly, it didn't matter that she couldn't decipher her thoughts from her questions. She knew time would clear the clouds from her mind, just as it would clear them from the sky. All that mattered was that Ezra was with her, and that had _always_ felt right.

Aria's gaze averted from the window to Ezra, watching as he struggled to find the road through the rain. She was in awe of him and the incredible affect his simple presence had on her. Somehow, in his absence, she had managed to forget how wonderful it was just to be beside him. It was indescribable. And, as his eyes darted to hers and then back to the road – a satisfied smirk settling on his lips, having caught her staring at him – Aria knew she would never make that mistake again. She wouldn't let herself forget this amazing feeling.

So, as the car pulled to a stop at a red light and Ezra's eyes met hers again, silently asking for their next move, Aria brushed her concerns aside and decided to embrace the crazy, confusing, breathtaking flood; both in an out of her mind.

"Turn right at the next intersection," she supplied, smiling over at him. Seizing the opportunity while they were still stopped, Aria gently lifted Ezra's hand from its place on the steering wheel and held it between them on the console, her eyes still on his. "We're almost home."

She had never spoken truer words.

* * *

Aria and Ezra soon found themselves traveling down a quaint tree-lined street which was flanked on each side by colonial-style row houses, many of which had been converted into apartments. Three months ago, Aria moved into a one-bedroom unit on the third floor of one of these buildings, and, despite the fact that it was quite cramped, she loved her little home. It only had two windows, and the water heater was constantly on the fritz, but it was all hers. And, no matter what, she was proud of her tiny shoebox.

Once Ezra had pulled the car to a stop in front of Aria's building, the pair hastily grabbed their belongings and wasted no time before plunging into the rain. They reasoned that the sooner they entered the storm, the sooner they would exit it and, thus, the sooner they would be dry. Aria led the way as the two ran up the front steps, pausing only briefly to unlock the exterior door before they trudged up the two flights of stairs to her third floor residence.

"Well, this is it," Aria exclaimed as she flung open her front door and waltzed inside, turning around just in time to watch Ezra cross the threshold behind her. She dropped her rain-covered work bag on the kitchen table, an excited grin filling her face as she spread her little arms out as wide as she could, showing off her modest home to him. "Home, sweet home!"

Ezra chuckled at the adorable, expectant expression Aria looked at him with as he followed her inside, slinging his overnight bag – which was almost as wet as he was – onto the table beside hers.

"So," she began, her eyes glimmering up at him, "what do you think?"

It took every ounce of strength Ezra had to peel his eyes away from her – for, as much as he was interested in admiring Aria's living room, he was _more_ interested in admiring _her_ – but he eventually managed to divert his attention to the confined living space. His eyes darted up, down, and around the room, happily taking in his surroundings.

Aria's apartment was decidedly tiny and rather bare, but, even still, it was undeniably _hers_ ; and that meant Ezra loved it. What it lacked in furniture, it made up for tenfold in character. The walls were a soft, warm yellow that reminded him of sunbathing under the lazy summer sun, and they were lined with photographs, books, and various eclectic knickknacks with which only Aria would furnish her home.

"I like it," he smiled down at her warmly, resting a hand on the table. "It's cozy."

An amused scoff erupted from Aria's lips. "Cozy's just another word for cramped," she replied stubbornly, rolling her eyes at him as her arms crossed over her chest.

"It's not cramped," he laughed, pulling her wrists down from her chest. "It's just Aria-sized."

At his words, a sound resembling a high-pitch bark tumbled from her mouth, and she swiftly wrenched her hands from his. "You did _not_ just say that," she retorted in mock-offense, her arms folding over her chest once again.

Despite the fact that Aria was glaring at him, Ezra couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. This was the same adorable reaction she always had when he teased her about how tiny she was. She'd always said she didn't like his teasing, but he knew it was an outright lie. Because, as much as she claimed to hate it when he teased her about her small stature, it always left her smiling. And Ezra's favorite hobby was making Aria smile, so, naturally, he took great pleasure in teasing her; then _and_ now.

Taking a step to close the gap Aria had left between them, he wrapped her wet body in his arms – her own arms still crossed between them in defiance – and smiled down at her. Although her chin rested on his chest, her scowl remained intact. "Don't be mad at me," he whispered, brushing his forehead against hers.

"You insulted me _and_ my apartment," she whined, a perfect pout replacing her scowl.

"No," he corrected, drawing out the word as he shook his head, "I _complimented_ you and your apartment." When Aria's brows only knitted in confusion at his statement, Ezra simply held her tighter, smiling down at her lovingly as he gave her a whispered explanation. "Aria-sized is my favorite size."

And then, like she always did, she smiled.

But this wasn't _just_ a smile. Aria positively beamed up at him, finally uncrossing her arms so that she could wrap them securely around his waist, her chin still propped on the damp fabric covering his chest. She didn't have to say anything in response to Ezra's admission, and neither did he. The look of admiration in both their eyes as they stood held in each other's arms next to the kitchen table – dripping water onto the rug beneath their feet all the while – was more than enough for them both.

Soon enough, though, their awe-filled moment was interrupted when a sudden gust of cool air blasted down on them, sending a chill down both of the wet pair's spines. Their heads shot up to the ceiling in search of the culprit; it was an air vent located, quite inconveniently, directly above the kitchen table. Aria shivered in Ezra's arms as the cold breeze continued to beat down on them.

"We should probably change now," he suggested, his eyes falling from the ceiling to hers.

"Definitely," she agreed, nodding her head vehemently. "You can change in the bathroom," she unraveled her arms from his torso to gesture toward a small hallway behind her, where Ezra assumed the room in question was located. "The washer and dryer are by the shower, so just throw _these_ ," she playfully pinched the fabric of his shirt, "in the dryer when you're done."

Ezra stepped back from Aria to grab his duffel from the table but quickly paused, his hand stopping midair over the bag as her words fully registered with him. "Wait," he turned back toward her, his tone equal parts curious and shocked, "you have a washer and dryer in here?" Aria merely gave an affirmative nod in response. " _Wow_ ," he mused, now thoroughly impressed, "not too bad for your first place, Montgomery."

"I know, right? I have a washer and dryer _inside_ my apartment _and_ my bed isn't in my kitchen?" she sarcastically teased, poking fun at his post-college living arrangements. What Aria didn't know, however, was that Ezra's post-college home was his _current_ home.

"Hey! I didn't insult your home, so don't insult mine!" he retorted, much like she had just moments ago, in amused mock-offense.

Something about his words struck Aria, though, her smile quickly dwindling into a confused line. His _home_? As in, where he lived _now_? _Still_ , after all this time? Her brow furrowed in intrigue as she replayed his statement in her mind just to make sure she hadn't misheard him. _She hadn't_. Ezra had used the present tense to describe the home she had always assumed he'd left behind long ago; apartment 3B, their refuge from the world. She stole a slow, deep breath, her chest swelling sanguinely as, for the first time in years, she allowed herself to entertain the idea that little 3B might still be Ezra's home.

"You still live there?" she questioned lowly, searching his eyes for answers as she attempted to quell the hopeful glint she felt rising in her own.

"I do," he replied simply, his eyes boring down into Aria's, playful demeanor forgotten.

"Why?" she whispered, staring into his eyes so intently that Ezra thought she might actually be able to read the answer from his mind.

"You know why," he returned softly, matching her ardent gaze.

 _But she didn't._

Why would he still live in that cramped little studio apartment after all these years? Why would he subject himself to all the wonderful, painful memories held in those walls on a daily basis? It didn't make any sense.

 _Or, maybe it did._

Aria's eyes fell to his chest, unable to stop the mental dots from connecting in her head. She knew Ezra; he wasn't one to dwell on the past. In fact, he made a habit of running from the past – from _his_ past. He was running from his family when he changed his name and transferred from Vassar to Hollis, and he was running from his old relationships when he withheld telling Aria about his failed engagement to Jackie and the pregnancy scare he and Maggie had after high school. And, every time he ran, it was for one reason; he wanted to forget. He wanted to forget his dysfunctional family. He wanted to forget that his selfish, overbearing mother had paid off his high school girlfriend to never speak to him again. And he wanted to forget that Jackie had used and manipulated him.

Yes, Ezra had always run from his past to forget it. So it seemed obvious to Aria that he would run from the place that reminded him of her the most; 3B. But he hadn't. And that could only mean one thing; he didn't _want_ to forget her. He wanted to keep their wonderful memories alive, no matter how painful they were, and Aria knew their was only one reason Ezra would torture himself with daily reminders of what they used to be. He hadn't moved _out_ because he hadn't moved _on_ … _He still loved her_.

He was right; Aria _did_ know why he never moved. She just wasn't ready to admit it; to him, _or to herself_.

Ezra could see these dots connecting behind Aria's eyes as her expression transformed from confusion, to contemplation, and then to shock. And, when she looked back up to him with sad, overwhelmed eyes, he wanted to kick himself. His heart sank; he had said too much and, in the process, ruined everything. He hadn't intended for her to read his love for her from his words; he'd only wanted her to know that he hadn't forsaken the place that, in so many ways, symbolized _them_ – everything they used to have and be. But he should've known she would figure it out.

He was frozen. He wanted to take her in his arms, to tell her he was sorry for saying too much too soon, but he couldn't. He couldn't find his voice, and he was afraid he would cross another line if he tried to hold her right now. So he just stood there, watching her as she watched him, both shivering as the vent continued to blow cold air onto their wet forms. But, then, something Ezra hadn't been expecting happened; a small, warm smile graced Aria's face. And, as she reached up to cup his cheeks in her hands, he felt the ice that had frozen his limbs begin to melt.

It had taken a moment for Aria to figure out why the realization of Ezra's hidden feelings for her had upset her so much. Because she honestly wasn't sad that he still loved her; not for herself, at least. Knowing that he had missed her just as much as she'd missed him made her heart feel light, but, at the same time, it made her stomach hang heavily in her abdomen. Why though? Why would she feel such sorrow about something that gave her so much joy? And that's when the root of her sadness revealed itself to her. He hadn't just missed her as much as she'd missed him; she had missed him as much he'd missed her… _Because she still loved him too_. And, when you love someone, their pain is your sorrow.

That's when she'd looked up from Ezra's chest to his eyes, and, from his reaction, she knew that he was well aware of her sadness. Regret and painful discomfort were written all over his face, and she realized then that he thought he was the cause of her melancholy. But he was wrong; so wrong. She wasn't upset that he still loved her for _herself_ ; she was upset for _him_. Because she knew the miserable, longing ache of loving someone from afar all too well, and the last thing she wanted was for Ezra to feel guilty for loving her. She needed him to understand that he hadn't done anything wrong. So, without thinking, she'd reached up to his face, holding it in her hands.

"You're right," she whispered to him sweetly, their gazes locked. "I _do_ know why," her thumb grazed along his cheek, "and I'm glad you didn't."

It was a simple statement, but Ezra knew Aria well enough to know that her simplest words were often the ones that meant the most. She had always liked speaking in hidden meanings, and he had always been quite adept at reading those hidden meanings from between her words. The key was reading those words in the context of her expression, so that's what he did. His eyes danced across hers. They were warm and gentle and radiated a familiar emotion he had yearned to evoke in her for so long; _love_.

And then he understood what she was trying to tell him.

Ezra smiled softly back at Aria, his fingers wrapping around and resting on her raised forearms. Her simple words hadn't been a confession of love – neither was ready for that – but they were all that needed to be said. She might have only told him she was glad he hadn't moved on from _3B_ , but Ezra understood what she really meant. Aria was glad he hadn't moved on from _her_ … _Because she still loved him too_.

Ezra's heart soared, his smile broadening nearly to his ears as he returned Aria's loving gaze. No, she didn't have to tell him she loved him, because he could already feel the love in her eyes, and that was all he needed. And so much more.

As this impossibly wide and goofy grin found its way onto Ezra's face, Aria couldn't help the giddy laugh that emitted from her lips. Everything about him was beautiful to her, even the silly stuff; no, _especially_ the silly stuff. And, at the sound of her stunning, melodic giggling, Ezra couldn't help but join in with her, their laughter echoing and coalescing into a song that seemed to dance in the air between them. She was flawless. Ezra could hardly comprehend the glee that took residence in his soul as Aria's brilliant eyes stared back at his in mirth, his fingers still grasping onto her forearms as she cradled his head in her tiny hands. And, for a minute, they stood there suspended in a singular perfect moment in time and space, wet and cold yet somehow still warm with laughter and love.

Ezra realized then that he'd been wrong earlier in the evening. Their moment in the lobby at Aria's office wasn't the long-awaited reunion he'd thought it would be. _This was their reunion_.

As the blissful melody of their combined laughter slowly dissipated from the air, Aria brushed her thumb along the stubble of Ezra's cheek once more before she dropped her hands, his falling from her arms in the process.

"Now that we've cleared that up," she started, the corner of her mouth lifting her smile into a smirk, "I'm about two seconds away from turning into a popsicle."

"Right," Ezra chuckled, unable – or possibly just unwilling – to wipe the stupid smile from his face, "let's get changed."

As Ezra followed her down the tiny hall to the bathroom, his bag of clothes slung over his shoulder, Aria turned her head to peak at him from over her shoulder. Her plump, pink lips donned a coy smile, and, suddenly, his knees felt weak. He shook his head at himself, feeling like a teenager again as he attempted to stop the fluttering in his heart and regain his composure by distracting himself with his watch.

 _6:42 PM._

He was a goner.

After only an hour in Aria's presence, he was already a lovesick puppy all over again, or maybe he always had been. Either way, he wasn't complaining, and he never would.

Aria Montgomery might be the death of Ezra Fitz, but, if she was, he would die a _very_ happy man.

* * *

 **Endnote:**

 **Whatcha think? Do the descriptions flow with the dialogue, or I should try to tone them down a bit so the dialogue isn't broken up as much? Any other thoughts? _Please_ leave a review! I LOVE hearing anything and everything you have to say:) Thanks to everyone who reviewed on chapter two: _ShanaLy_ , _missbee21_ , _obsessedwithezria_ , _Lizz.R,_ _TheCelticOne_ , and guest!**

 **I had originally planned for more to happen in this chapter, but it was getting pretty long, and I thought this was a good place to stop. So I'm saving the other stuff for the next chapter;) Thanks again for reading, and keep an eye out for updates!**

 **Omg, what's that sound? I think the review box is calling your name;)**

 ** _I'm on twitter now!_ My handle is ' _rhythmetic_ ,' and you should definitely follow me;) Nobody else in my life understands my love for Ezria, and I welcome any opportunity to talk about PLL. So hit me up! I'll also be posting updates on my stories there:)**


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